


Trust

by maydei



Series: The Tomorrow Queen [2]
Category: Supernatural, The Tomorrow People (2013)
Genre: Always Female Sam, Angel Soulbonds, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Depowered Lucifer, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Female Sam Winchester, Gun Violence, Intimacy, Telepathic Bond, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-04 10:16:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maydei/pseuds/maydei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She has to trust him. She has to trust that he will not hurt her. She has to trust that they will emerge from this stronger than before. She must. What other option does she have?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [robinasnyder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinasnyder/gifts).



> I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT THIS MOST RECENT EPISODE. SPOILERS FOR THE MIDSEASON FINALE. WARNINGS FOR VAGUE AND BADLY-WRITTEN HET SEX BECAUSE WOW IT'S BEEN A LONG TIME SINCE I'VE WRITTEN THAT. TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR LOTS OF STUFF. BEWARE.
> 
> GIFTED TO **ROBINASNYDER** BECAUSE YOU ARE A SWEETHEART AND I HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER.

She awakes the moment he does, feeling the dread radiate from his turned back and his slumped shoulders. She knows how being away from each other has been hard on them both. She'd only thought he'd be able to ignore the sadness a little bit longer.

That's when she sees the gun.

And she closes her eyes, not moving an inch, because his powers are muffled and he will not know she's awake just yet, too. Part of her wants to know what's going on. The other part of her, the darker part that ruined a world and went back for seconds— _that_ part of her—wants to know what he'll do.

He stands and rounds the bed. Her breathing is even, even though she knows the gun is in his hand, because above all, the voice in her head whispers _trust him, trust him, trust him, he's all we have._ She almost gives herself away when she feels his lips against her temple—almost sighs, thinking he's going to cut out in the middle of the night, that's all it is, of course—

—but it isn't.

She ropes in her powers through sheer force of will to avoid killing him when she feels the pillow laid gently over her face. She could do it from panic alone, and her heart is going fast enough that she knows, she _knows_ that archangel or not, she could hurt him.

_Trust him. Trust him. You love him. He loves you. Trust him._

"I'm so sorry, Morgan," he whispers.

The gun goes off, but he did not say her true name, and she does not kill him.

 

* * *

 

She likes this little hideout of theirs. It's... comfortable, in a way. It doesn't hold the comforts of home, Sam knows, but... it has its charms.

"You're still alive?" Cara asks, and Sam does not hold it against the girl when she hears the lingering irritation in her voice. Sam feels much the same; she didn't like faking weakness for the sake of the Tomorrow People, but, she knew, neither would she like anyone else knowing she _wasn't_ one.

When Cara calls him an evil genius, Sam laughs, because the girl has no idea just how right she is.

 

* * *

 

Stephen is tired from dying and returning (a trait that is shared across universes, it seems), so Sam doesn't expect to see much of anyone else that evening. She had hoped that maybe Stephen would have mercy enough to bring _Jedikiah_ by, but...

But, well, she doesn't hold out too much hope. Instead, she lays herself out on the couch, head pillowed on the arm rest, and stares at the wall while she listens to the ambient noise of the makeshift-bunker. And when she hears the telltale _whoosh_ of reality being displaced, the last thing she expects to see when the footsteps come into her view is Lucifer, falling to kneel at her side.

She looks up and feels a rush of affection when she sees John and Cara watching carefully. There's something about Cara's no-nonsense attitude that reminds her of Dean; something about John's puppy-dog eyes and desperate love for Cara that reminds her of Cas. She thinks they all would've gotten along, but she'll never know.

Sam rolls off of the couch and into Lucifer's arms. She forces her lips to wrap around the name _Jed_ instead of _Luce_ when she whispers it into his skin. He clutches at her and will certainly leave bruises, and she can't find it in herself to be anything but pleased about that.

"I love you," he whispers into her hair. "I'm so sorry. I love you. Forgive me. I love you."

He doesn't care a bit that John and Cara are watching. She doesn't care either, because fuck them and their blind twenty-something romance and thinking they've known the end of the world. They haven't. Sam and Lucifer, they _have._ And losing Lucifer, that's the end of the world more than the ground crumbling beneath her feet.

"I love you," she agrees emphatically. She tries to stand, but he's clinging to her, and it's not until she guides him by their tangled hands that he follows her. "Come on, you. Let's find some privacy."

She hears John make a gagging sound behind their backs, but when she locks eyes with Cara, the woman jerks her head toward the hallway and feeds _third door on the left_ into Sam's mind. She takes him there because he's breaking at the seams, overflowing with pain he doesn't know how to manage, and he needs her. And she needs the privacy to tend to him the way he deserves; her Tomorrow-King.

With the door locked behind them, Lucifer is tearing at her clothing, crackling with all the desparate energy he does not possess as he laps his way into her mouth. Sam answers with patience, because for all her need in turn, he needs the stability. She strips herself slowly first, allowing him to feel her soul burn beneath his palms—it is one of the only powers he still retains in his weakened state. She then takes him apart, too, piece-by-piece until he is bare for her and her eyes and her fingers, needing so badly he has to stop to make marks on her body to satisfy his mind.

"I wanted to kill him," he snarls into her throat, lifting her by the thighs to carry her to the bed. He lays her out, eyes traitorously dripping and red as he hovers over her, stretching her with his fingers because he would _never_ hurt her, even when she wants it, when she _needs_ it, and how could she have ever doubted him when he presses his forehead against hers and breathes her in?

She moans in shaky tandem with him, leaning her face up to lick the tear-tracks away, because she is _fine_ and he is _fine_ and they are _fine_. They will continue to be perfectly alright, because she will not settle for anything less.

He steadies himself and pushes inside her, and Sam's body twitches, because even after all this time, _letting him in_ is never any less blissful, even if she knows this is not exactly what God and Michael had in mind. She claws at him and reaches out to connect their minds because _he needs this._

"S- _am_ ," he grits out. He makes a sound that's almost a whine. "Sam, I—"

"Shh, honey," she murmurs, melding their consciousnesses. _Let me take care of you, love._

 _He wanted me to kill you. He has no idea what you are, who you are, how precious you are. And I had to let him think that I did, I had to show him what I did so he wouldn't suspect. I need you safe until I can protect you the right way._ Lucifer holds her jealously and kisses her with wildfire. _I refuse to let you go._

 _Keep me, then,_ Sam replies silently, her mouth caught on wordless sounds of pleasure. _Keep me always, and I'll keep you. We don't need to play this game again. I'd be happy here with you in my reach every night until I die._

He snaps his hips forward again and again, panting against her skin, making broken sounds when he feels her fingers stroke his bare back, his vacant shoulders. He opens up when she kisses him, happy enough to take what she can give in return.

She will ruin this world, too, before she allows him to be taken from her side.

His muscles go rigid. Electricity crackles through her body as his Grace goes wild with their proximity. _My Sam._

Her lips part on a fractured moan. "Luce, _Lucifer—_ "

The world brightens and goes sharp, and they cling to each other as gravity seems to flip. 

They come down together. Always together.

 

* * *

 

Sam emerges in Lucifer's button-down and her own pair of jeans. Her hair is more than tousled. She smiles like she's won something, because she has.

One of the main lights has exploded. She ignores John's scandalized look and hides a smirk behind her hand. When Lucifer follows, shirtless and love-marked and with heavy-lidded eyes, he outright gags. For real, this time.

Cara eyes her speculatively.  Sam arches a brow in return. _They don't need to be like us to be mind-blowing._

Cara doesn't seem to know how to react to that. Sam turns and draws Lucifer in, luring him forward with a filthy kiss.

Let them think she's kissing their archenemy. They're more right than they'll ever know.

"My Lord," she breathes into his mouth. "Are you satisfied?"

John steps up to take him home, but Lucifer's eyes are all for her. "Never," he answers heatedly, and as he vanishes from the bunker, Sam _feels_ his love of her.

 _Trust him_ , her heart says, and she does.

 

 

 


End file.
